Author's note: Hey everyone! Thank you for coming back, reading and commenting ! I changed the rating of this story, and starting this chapter it is going to be rated adult. With that said, most of the chapters are still going to be mostly clean, and I will mention what chapters has smut. This one is M rated.
I will love to hear your opinions, and I hope you enjoy!

They eat their dessert off of each other.

To be more accurate, Robert eats their dessert off of Andy, his mouth devouring every piece of her soft skin as he licks caramel sauce and hums as the sweetness hits the taste buds on his tongue. He isn't sure which one of them is sweeter, the condiment that was supposed to be used to dip their churros in, but is being repurposed to fill a completely different task at the moment, or the taste of her, lying beneath him, savoring the feel of his mouth on every part of her body.

He isn't sure how they got there, isn't sure how he found himself in his bed with this beautiful woman.

A woman who is supposed to be his subordinate. A woman who is fifteen years younger than him. A woman he used to keep at an arm's length, but now he isn't sure how he feels about her.

Well, he is sure that he wants her, if the fact that she is currently lying in her underwear in his bed is any indication. If the way that he is already hard in his pants is any sign of how desirable he finds her.

Robert lifts his head up, detaching his lips from the skin of her belly. He takes his time and looks at her, his eyes traveling her body, starting from her face and making his way down low, then lower. She wears a simple set of matching black bra and underwear, and by the way she tries to cover her body with her arms, he knows she didn't plan for dinner to end up with her lying half naked under his sheets.

Well, sex was the last way he expected his night to end in, but he can't say that it bothers him. Not in the slightest.

His head is spinning and he isn't sure if it is the outcome of the lust cursing through his veins, or the one too many spiced margarita he had during their dinner. Maybe it is an outcome of both, because as he looks at her, as he really tries to catch a glimpse of the little details, his vision becomes blurry around the edges, like he is looking at her through a camera lens he isn't able to keep focused.

Everything else in his body works just fine, and it is the most important thing, at least according to him.

"Why did you stop?" Andy asks, her voice filled with need.

"I just..." Robert starts, but he doesn't have the answer. Why did he stop, actually? "I don't usually do it." He tries to explain. She is close with his daughter, and they made actual progress between them tonight. They managed to stay away from fighting, and he saw her in a new light. He enjoyed having her around his house, enjoyed her company in his personal time, and not just at work. They were almost friendly, if he can say so himself.

She isn't as terrible as he thought her to be. Not in the slightest, and the last thing he wants is her thinking he is trying to take advantage of her.

"You don't do what?" Andy inquires, frowning. She moves uncomfortably beneath him, and he can tell she needs him to resume his previous activities, soon.

"I don't usually allow food anywhere outside the kitchen, let alone in my bed, of all places." He remarks, which makes Andy laugh.

It might be the most beautiful sound he has ever heard.

He picks up the little container that has been waiting for him by the side of his bed, and drizzles a small amount in a slow stream to the inside of her thigh this time. His mouth finds the spot, his tongue trailing up, catching the sauce, leaving a wet patch where his mouth has just been. "All clean." He calls, and she giggles again, that mesmerizing sound coming from a low point in her belly, and makes him ever harder, makes him want to take her even faster.

"Wait, I think I missed a little bit right... here." He whispers. His lips catch a certain spot on her skin, and suck on it, hard, hard enough that come morning, she will wake up with a nasty bruise just there. Not that he cares. He decides that the only man who should have access to that specific spot so high up her thigh is him, so no one else would notice it anyway.

Andy moans at the feeling of his lips on her leg. She grips the sheets between her palms, and as he lifts his head, he can see her eyes closed shut, as she tries to enjoy the different sensation he inflicts upon her body, without touching her quite there. "Andy, as much as I would like to hear every sound I can get out of you, you have to be quiet. Livia is sleeping in the room just across the hall, and the walls of this house aren't as thick as one might think them to be."

"The door is locked." Andy breaths out, still not looking at him.

Is the door locked? He can't remember doing that specific action, but he is certain one of them made sure his teenage daughter won't be able to enter his bedroom without knocking. The last thing he wants is to scar her for life.

Robert gets back to his affairs. He moves up her body a bit, tracing a trail with his tongue, starting at the hem of her bra. He licks, then breathes on it slightly, and he can see goosebumps rising on her skin, can see the way she shivers under his touch. He kisses his way down her belly, and then does the exact same thing for her on her underwear line, avoiding taking them off deliberately.

"Robert, please." Andy begs, and seeing her like that, pleading for him, he knows he won't be able to hold back for much longer. He wants to take his time with her, wants to explore, wants to learn every curve and every spot, but he guesses that if she would be up to it, they will have the time to do it later.

He kisses her softly on her lips, and then moves off of her, which makes her whimper. "Just grabbing a condom." He reassures her.

But something feels off as he rolls to the other side of the bed, trying to reach his nightstand, where he keeps a small stack of condoms ready for moments much like this one. Something feels different, not quite right.

There is an acute pain sensation at the top of his face, just above his brow, and that is how Robert finds himself sprawled on the floor, landing down from his bed with a loud noise.

His head is throbbing. And as he is trying to figure out what exactly happened, how exactly he found himself in this specific position, he realizes that his head isn't the only thing that is pulsing with pain at the moment.

Shit.

He manages to open his eyes, little by little. It takes him time to adjust to the darkness, but he is able to read the time blinking on the alarm clock standing just by his bedside. It is currently just past four in the morning, and he had a very wet and vivid dream about no other than Andy Herrera.

The door to his bedroom opens, and he quickly grabs one of the blankets from his bed, covering himself. He doesn't want to traumatize his daughter.

"Olivia, don't ever come into my bedroom in the middle of the night without knocking. You are not a child anymore." He manages to scold through gritted teeth, even though he feels two different kinds of very painful pressure in two very different spots in his body.

He never uses her full name, always calls her by that childish nickname she tells him she hates, but actually doesn't mind that bad, not when it comes from him, the most important person in her life. So in the few and far between cases he does use her given name, she knows she is in big trouble, like that time she skipped class back in Montana to go to the movie theater with some boy.

She can't possibly understand what she has done wrong at the moment, though. "I heard a loud noise coming from your room, and it woke me up. I just came to see if you are okay, dad. I am sorry I entered without knocking. It won't happen again."

"You don't have to worry about me." He reassures her.

"I know you constantly remind me who the parent is and who the child is in this relationship, but I do care about you, dad. We are all we have." For now, anyway, she thinks to herself, if her plan is going to work just as well as it seemed to be starting off last evening.

"Andy..." He whispers, and even though Liv is practically sleep walking, she cracks a small smile as she hears him blurt out the name. Funny thing, how she is the first person who comes to his mind when he is lying on the floor in the middle of the night.

"What about her?" Olivia asks. She also notices he used her first name instead of referring to her as Herrera. That is new, she thinks to herself, and tags it as another small success in her mind.

"Did she... Did she make it home?" He looks disoriented, but Olivia hesitates, not wanting to get any closer. She knows her father, and one of the many things he is good at doing, is raising back up on his feet after a fall.

"I don't know." Liv shrugs. "You guys stayed and talked on the sofa forever, and I called it a night..." She trails off. "But dad, I am sure she made it back safely. It is the middle of the night and the two of you have the day off tomorrow. I promise I will check on her in the morning, but I am sure you have nothing to worry about."

"Thank you." Her father whispers.

"Good night, dad." She says, stepping out of his bedroom.

"Good night, Livia."

"Oh, and dad" She adds just before she closes the door behind her. "Your forehead is bleeding."

Olivia leaves, closes the door with a soft knock, and Robert lets out a groan. Great, now he has two things to care of.

He picks himself off of the floor carefully. His body is sore. He landed quite badly as he rolled off the bed, but he hasn't noticed the sore back and stiff neck until now, because he was too occupied by the pain in his head and the erection he has to take care of. He gazes at the sheets, can't help the thought that she might actually be there, hiding away between the covers. He checks the bed quickly, just for the slight chance it wasn't all a dream, but the other side of the bed is cold and empty.

Robert stretches a bit, trying to ease his sore muscles. Then he walks over to the bathroom, kicking away the boxers he is wearing. He turns on the water in the shower, fidgets a bit with the tap until the temperature of the water is to his liking.

Then he leans against the cool tile wall and takes himself in the hand. He is already completely hard and pretty worked up by the dream he had.

He tries to convince himself it wasn't about Andy Herrera. It was about the fact that he hasn't touched a woman for a long while now, and this is his body's way of signaling him that he needs more, more than his hand is able to provide. He needs another warm body in his bed, even if for a night. He needs someone to move with him to a shared rhythm, someone he could share his pleasure with.

But right now, at four on a Wednesday morning, his hand is all he has.

He can tell himself all he wants that Andy Herrera was just the last woman he had seen, and he is even willing to admit that she is attractive, and that is the reason she was a part of his dream, but as he touches himself, as he starts to rub himself, her picture comes into his mind.

He is back in the dream that was so rudely interrupted by reality, and it is her hand touching him, gentle at first, then picking up the pace. He is currently somewhere between the forbidden fantasy and the harsh reality, somewhere between sleeping and wakefulness, but he is well aware of the fact that his daughter is back in her bed, and that he has to keep as quiet as he possibly can while he is so close, otherwise she will hear him. He bites down on his lower lip, then picks up the pace once again.

And then the picture in his mind changes. He sees her in her uniform, walking away from him. He sees her in that red sweater she wore for dinner just a few hours ago.

He rocks against his hand frantically now, and it doesn't take long before he comes. Her name almost slips past his lips, but he catches himself right on time.

He won't say her name as he comes, because it isn't about her at all.

Robert breaths heavily after he finally, finally, has his orgasm, after his body finally finds its release. It takes him a few long minutes to catch his breath and completely wake up, all the while the hot water is still running above his head.

He finishes his early morning shower quickly, then wraps a towel around his torso and heads to deal with the second problem he has on hand, after the first and far more pressing one has been taken care of. He looks in the mirror and cleans the blood that dried on his forehead and on his brow.

It didn't bother him in the slightest until that moment.

Beneath the clotted blood, there is quite a large cut, and Robert is sure that in a few hours, a nasty black bruise will appear on the same spot as well, exactly where he hit his head against the bedside table. He is lucky, though. It could have ended far worse.

After he pulls up a fresh pair of boxers, he slides back into bed, yet he can't fall asleep. He tosses and turns until the clock shows brightly the hour is half past five. Robert grunts in frustration, wears the first pair of training pants and top he can find in his closet, and goes for a run.

As he jogs he watches the sun rise above the city of Seattle, signaling a new day has come by. There is loud music coming from his headphones, but even though he has many distractions, his mind keeps wandering back to her.

Andy Herrera.

And he will never admit it, but as the night turns to dawn, and then turns to day on another Wednesday in his life, he sees his lieutenant lit in a completely different light, for the first day out of many to come.

Andy's bedroom is too bright. Way too bright.

She grunts and tries to turn to the other side, tries to use her pillow to block the light, which she has no idea where it is filtering from, but it does nothing. If anything, every second that passes by makes everything so much worse.

She stands up on wobbly feet, then makes her way to the living room, her pillow still gripped in her hand.

Andy lies on the sofa, spreading her limbs, and covers her face with the pillow she hauled from her bedroom, letting out a loud grunt. It helps to some extent, the living room being cooler than the feeling she had beneath the covers, and she manages to block most of the offensive light.

But her head is pounding, and her mouth is dry. She knows exactly what she feels, yet she chooses to stay away from naming the sensation just yet. She can't say she has been feeling like that quite often in the last couple of years, but she had her fair share of fun when she was just past twenty one, long nights with liquor pouring, which ended up with her feeling exactly as she feels right now, and that was the better case scenario. In the worse one, she found herself throwing up in a restroom of a house that wasn't hers, or Ryan's.

Maybe if she will just ignore it, maybe if she will just lie on the sofa and pretend everything is alright, the sensation will pass at some point or another on its own.

She just has to lie completely still for enough time, and convince herself that she feels perfectly normal. After a while, she will start to believe it.

Then she hears the crackling of Maya's keys in the door.

No more pretending, it seems.

"Too loud." Andy moans, trying to stir around, trying to find a position comfortable enough for her to go back to sleep, or at least ease the headache.

"Good morning to you too, sleeping beauty." Maya answers, her voice chiming. Everything sounds heightened to Andy's ears at the moment. The sound of Maya's keychain as it lands on the counter, the noise of the water flowing as she refills her water bottle. Andy swears she can even hear her friend as she sips on her drink. Why does she have to do it so loudly?

"What time is it?" Andy asks, her voice hoarse.

"Almost noon." Maya answers.

Andy sighs, but does nothing that points out she is about to scrape herself off of the sofa and start her day. Then she can feel Maya's hand grabbing onto the pillow Andy uses as a shield from the sunlight, and tosses it to the other side of the room.

"I hate you." Andy grunts. She tries to open her eyes slowly, bit by bit, but fails at it miserably. Her head hurts, every muscle in her body feels sore, and she is grateful for the fact that at least she doesn't have to attend work today.

She wonders if Robert feels the same. She can't recall how many drinks she had, let alone count his, but she has a feeling he holds his liquor better than her.

If only she knew.

"Spill it." Maya demands. She pushes Andy's legs away and sits beside her best friend.

"Spill what?" Andy plays dumb. The last thing she wants or needs is her roommate playing detective, asking her questions, digging into her night, analyzing every look, every smile, every moment.

"What's the name of the reason you look like you have been hit by a truck, and why didn't you go home with him?" Maya asks.

So Travis and Dean didn't spread the rumor yet. Well, at least she has that as a small comfort.

"You stink." Andy complains, trying to change the conversation.

"Well, while you were getting your beauty sleep, I went for a run and hit the gym. Now tell me, what have you been up to last night? You came back home pretty late, and you are obviously hungover."

"I am not hungover." Andy lies. She obviously is, obviously drank too many of those boozy margaritas. There is a silence in the living room as Maya gives her best friend an opportunity to come clean before she has to take extreme measures to get the truth out of her.

"You know, if you could tell I am hungover, you could have at least brought over something to help with the sensation, instead of questioning me about my whereabouts last night." Andy blames.

"Open your eyes." Maya prompts. Andy does just so. The light hits her, and she has to blink a few times in order to adjust. Maya is offering her just what she needs. A large bottle of water in one of her hands and two pills of Advil in the other. She sits up straight, but she makes the maneuver too fast, and she feels queasy.

The last thing she wants is to throw up, on top of everything.

"I love you." Andy says as she pops the two pills into her mouth, contradicting completely her statement just from a few moments ago.

"This is the Bishop cure for hangover. Take the painkillers, drink the water, and go back to sleep. When you wake up, you will feel like a new person, trust me." Andy nods, follows the orders exactly as she has been told.

"Shit." Andy mutters as she remembers exactly how last night ended. The fact that Robert gave her a small peck on the cheek. The way she inhaled him deeply. His scent, an intoxicating combination of lime and expensive perfume. The fact that he took her car keys away and ordered her an Uber.

"What's wrong?" Maya asks.

"I can't go back to sleep." The brunette realizes.

"Andy, what is going on?" Maya sounds alarmed.

"I just... I need my phone." She calls, and drags her feet back to her bedroom. Everything from last night is a mess, her clothes and her belongings. Her bed is topped with a mountain of blankets, which Andy has no idea where they are from and how did they get there.

She goes through the mess until she finds her phone, praying that she hasn't done something stupid last night, that she hasn't texted anything inappropriate to Ryan, or to Jack. To her relief, the only texts she has, among two missed calls, are from Olivia, asking about her, wanting to make sure she made it home safe and sound.

Andy takes a deep breath and brushes her fingers through her hair as she presses the name Olivia Sullivan in her contact list, and waits for an answer.

"Andy." She hears her name coming from the other side of the line.

She turns the volume down before she speaks back. "Hey, Liv. Just called to say I made it home safely, and that you shouldn't worry. I just slept in for a bit, that's all."

"Good, because my dad was really worried about you."

"Yeah, about him... Is he around?" Andy asks.

"Yeah, do you want me to put him on?" The girl suggests.

"No, no, no. That won't be necessary." Andy reassures. The last thing she wants is to speak to her captain when the effect of the painkillers hasn't kicked in yet. "Can you just ask him if it will be alright if I come by soon to pick up my car keys?"

"Why did you leave your car here?" The girl inquires, too perceptive for Andy's good.

"No reason." She lies. "I just didn't feel like driving."

Andy thinks about how stupid it sounds, and she blames it on the hangover. She knows Olivia doesn't believe it, not even for a second, but apparently she is in luck today, and in an uncharacteristically manner, the teenage girl just drops the subject.

She can hear Olivia shouting to her father, but she doesn't put enough distance between her phone and her mouth as she does, and the yelling makes Andy flinch.

"Yeah, it is fine by him." The girl finally answers on the other side of the line.

"I will see you soon, then." Andy concludes, then hangs the phone.

She takes a deep breath and rubs her eyes, readying herself to deal with the rain of questions Maya is about to pour on her.

Andy makes her way back to the sofa, where Maya sits, waiting patiently for her return. The blonde lifts her eye up, and just like Andy expected, she doesn't wait even a second before she inquires again. "Well, I have treated you. Now, answers please." She demands.

"I am going to start with the end." Andy sighs. "I need you to drive me to Sullivan's house."

"Why the hell do you need to go to the captain's house on your day off? And why do you need me to drive you?"

Andy takes a deep breath, then lets it out slowly, preparing herself to deal with whatever comical reaction her friend might let out. "Because I was at his place last night, and I had a few too many drinks, so he insisted that I leave my keys with him and use a rideshare app to make it home." Andy summarizes the events of last night as shortly as she can.

"Care to elaborate on how you found yourself drunk in Sullivan's house on a midweek night? Wait, did you...?" Maya asks, her eyes opening widely.

"No, no!" Andy asks, knowing exactly what her roommate means. If Maya came up with that notion a few weeks ago, Andy would have laughed. It isn't like she has any plans to jump into bed with him, but now, after she saw another side of him last night, she can't find the idea as ridiculous anymore.

"I mean, you can't blame me for asking. He is your type, I know that much, and you can't tell me you don't find him handsome. Besides, you know what they say about men with large hands. Or is it large feet? Anyway, he has both." Maya shrugs.

"Maya, please don't ever talk about Sullivan's large feet." Andy swallows and shakes her head, trying to get rid of the inappropriate image. "You have to promise me what I am going to tell you is going to stay between us. Even though Dean and Travis already know parts of the story."

"How come they know before I do? Your best friend?" Maya asks.

Andy decides to take it as a promise to keep her secret guarded, and starts to share the events of last night. "Olivia invited me to have dinner with her and Sullivan last night. I decided to take a little inspiration, if you can call it so, from Dean, using his margaritas as an excuse to avoid conversation, because I thought it was going to be a horror show."

"But..." Maya coaxes, knowing there is more to the story.

"But I ended up spending most of the night with Sullivan instead of his daughter, who, strangely enough, wasn't her talkative self. And to be honest, it wasn't half bad. He made me laugh, and he was considerate and comfortable. It was his idea to add alcohol to the margarita, and he might have added a bit too much, given how my night ended and my morning began."

"I can't believe you ate some of Liv's food and didn't even think to pack some in Tupperware boxes and bring them to me." Maya huffs, and Andy can't possibly understand how this is the one thing she picked up on from the entire conversation.

"Come on, finish your water and I will drive you to his place." Maya encourages.

"I don't think I feel well enough to drive." Andy protests, but does as she was ordered, and finishes her drink before filling it to the rim again, then going back to her bedroom, trying to make herself look as presentable as she can.

She feels better as they make their way to the same house she spent her evening in, the painkillers finally starting to have the desired effect on her body. For some reason, she is nervous, her foot thumping up and down in the driver's seat.

"I will wait here until you say I can head back home." Maya calls.

"He doesn't bite, you know." Andy finds herself advocating for her captain.

She, of all people .

"Whatever you want." Andy settles as she makes her way to the front door and rings the doorbell.

The door is swung open by the sixteen years old, who flashes Andy a big smile, as if they haven't spent the entire previous evening in each other's company.

"Hey." The girl greets her warmly. "Do you want to come in? I think we have some coffee and I baked some cookies not long ago. They might still be warm."

"Stop trying to bribe me with food." Andy laughs, but the idea of a hot cup of coffee and some sweet treats sounds divine, and just on time her belly growls, letting her know that she is indeed hungry. She is about to take the girl's offer, about to sign Maya she can go back home, and head into the house.

She wants to ask Liv what she is doing at home just past noon on a school day, but her train of thoughts is being cut short by Robert.

Andy looks up at him as he leans against the doorframe and blocks the entrance with his body.

All signs of Robert, the man she met yesterday, the man who fixed her drinks and smiled warmly at her, are gone. He is all captain Sullivan again, with his pout and his harsh expression as he hands her the keys to her car, and says nothing.

"What happened to you?" Andy asks as she sees the cut on his forehead, and the bruise surrounding it. She reaches her free hand out and moves her thumb across the wound slowly.

She feels it again, feels that electric current at the base of her skull and down her spin as her finger brushes his skin lightly.

Then he takes a step away, distancing himself from her, and the moment is over. "It is nothing. I will see you tomorrow at the station Herrera." He blurts out coldly, then closes the door in her face.

Andy is left to stand there, staring at the closed door, wondering what the hell happened to the man she met just yesterday.